


Reflections of an Old Man

by crimsondust



Category: NaPolA | Before the Fall (2004)
Genre: Death, Loss, Love, M/M, Memory, Original Character Death(s), reflections
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-26
Updated: 2016-03-26
Packaged: 2018-05-29 05:58:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6362194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crimsondust/pseuds/crimsondust
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Towards the end of his life, Frederich reflects back on his life and memories with Albrecht.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reflections of an Old Man

He had never told anyone about Albrecht. But now that he was dying, his memory drifted past his grandchildren, everyday family disputes, his divorce and struggles after the war to a sunny day with Albrecht. He began recounting the story to his grandson: 

I don't know why I'm telling this story now, except maybe someone should remember Albrecht, after I'm gone. He was more than a friend to me. He taught me how to fight and live honourably. I would never have survived a day at that school without him. It seems difficult to imagine that we could be happy in a time of war but some of my happiest days were spent at that school.  

I remember one particular day, there were no lessons that day which was unusual but it was the day before half term and Albrecht had invited me to his house for the weekend. 

It wasn't planned; we were sitting outside in the sun growing warm and lazy when Albrecht squeezed my hand and I smiled at him. He was talking about an essay he had written and wanted to publish. As he talked, the sun glinted in his blue eyes and I inadvertently smiled again. 

What? Albrecht asked rather self consciously. 

Your eyes. They are so soft, so beautiful. I have only just noticed that.

You have not been listening to a word I've been saying, Frederich. He feigned annoyance. 

I leaned over to appease him, staining my navy uniform in the mud in the process and my lips accidentally brushed against Albrecht's left cheek.

Even though I had intended that as a sort of half apology, my heart beat faster. Something woke up in me gazing at his beautiful face as he pulled up grass absent-mindedly and looked into the distance. He smiled and returned the kiss, rather shyly, but on the lips this time. I tasted his lips and breathed in his scent and sometimes those memories come back. We parted quickly and anxiously, hoping no one had seen us. When we were sure the coast was clear, I grinned at him while he blushed. 

He smiled back as we lay close together. There was a defiance in what we were doing as he would say. We were thinking about love, instead of war. An act that would be met with disapproval especially from his father. He knew what his father would say, again, 'You're too weak, Albrecht.' His face fell every time those words were uttered. 

All through the dinner with his family and other guests, I watched him becoming increasingly despondent as he tried to win his father's attention by reading out a poem which I thought was sweet but his father didn't have time for him, same as mine. I squeezed his hands under the table to show that I understood and he smiled. 

Remember the happy moments we have spent together, I wanted to say as we cleaned guns, did exercises and faced the wrath of Sportlehrer and that annoying Jaucher everyday. Somehow he had taken a dislike to me from the first day and it got worse with time.  

We had grown better at facing Sportlehrer and after Siegfried's heroic death, he had mellowed a bit. We even got back at Jaucher. We watched in glee as he struggled with his shoes while the rest of his group marched off to war.

When you get to my age, memory is a difficult thing to tame. I don't remember the lessons or how hard I trained in boxing that year till my hands were sore almost everyday. I don't remember the fight I lost before they kicked me out.  I remember the pain that swelled up in my heart and wouldn't go away. I remember the empty bed after he was gone. I remember the frozen lake and seeing him in the water and trying desperately to break the ice and time standing still and then just a tiny shake of the head from him and then I don't remember anything. 

Some things though stand out sharply to me as if someone had turned on the video player in my head. I remember how Albrecht looked when he smiled, rather shyly biting his lip, how handsome he looked in the beige uniform standing attention. I remember loving the fire in his eyes as he read essays and talked about philosophers he admired. I knew how he looked when he was trying to hide his sadness while confessing that his father didn't care about his essays.  We met in the stalls of the lavatory and came up with excuses to brush up against each other and steal furtive kisses.

We grew up that night in the forest. Those poor Russians children. He shuddered as he turned and rested his tired head against the soft pillow. That night is etched in my memory forever. May you never be faced with such a situation, he told his grandson. 

We turned out to be the villains who we wanted to save the world from, I think about that line a lot. Albrecht had read some lines from his essay as he told me in the stalls that he was turning seventeen in a week and being sent to the Eastern Front by his father. He told me, This was the first essay my father ever read. I could not shake the immense sadness I heard in his voice. 

My heart sank. I tried to keep up the act of feigning anger with Albrecht as I couldn't watch him look towards the frozen lake outside, his eyes carrying a vacant stare that screamed of hopelessness.  Maybe at that time, I didn't admit to myself but I was angry at the world, at myself, at everything because I was watching my friend in pain and I could do nothing. 

We rolled on the floor till we were both sobbing uncontrollably. He kept kissing me and calling me his Frederich and even in utter despair, I somehow felt that we might survive this because we were young and in love.   

He broke off abruptly as he turned to look behind his grandson at someone in the distance. 

'Albrecht? You don't know how much I've longed to see you.'

'I could never leave you Friederich. I love you.'

I miss you, I have always missed you, he thought as each breath became difficult to draw. Now we can finally meet, friend.

He heard his grandson tell his daughter that he thought grand papa had been muttering incoherent words and talking about someone named Albrecht.

When the grandson returned, Frederich had died with a peaceful smile on his face. 

 


End file.
